Friend (With Benefits) Zone

by Laura Brown

  Dad rubbed his neck. I wanted to sign not a phase, but the man would figure it out eventually. With any luck he’d see how good a man Shawn was for Blake.

  I backed away. “I’ll see if Jasmine’s awake.” I hoped some of the tension would be defused by the time we returned.

  I slipped into my room, closing the door behind me. Her legs were tangled in the blankets, all long limbs and smooth skin. I hated waking her, but Blake and Shawn needed the distraction. Besides, Mom and Dad were here for her. I shook Jas’s shoulder until she stirred. She rolled over and went back to sleep.

  I laughed; waking her was always a challenge. However, I did have a new trick up my sleeve. I kissed her.

  It started as brushes against still lips, but then her lips began to move with mine. Slow, but like each time when I kissed Jas, the rest of the world faded. Her lips took on more urgency. I pulled her body to mine. And when the last shred of sanity threatened to leave, I remembered the party in the kitchen.

  I pulled back, and her eyes popped open. A lazy smile crossed her face. “Good morning.”

  That made one of us. “Sorry to wake you, but my parents stopped by. To check on you.”

  Jas sat up. “What?” She checked the time. “It’s too early. You people are not normal.”

  “Shawn’s here.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh. Blake hiding him?”

  “They’re in the kitchen.”

  She swung her legs over the bed. “Now that I want to see.”

  I stomped until she turned. “Your makeup.” She looked fine to me, but with the smudged mascara and messed-up hair, not to mention last night’s bar clothes, she looked like we’d had sex.

  Her hand flew to her hair. “I have to wash up.” She grabbed some clothes and sneaked out of my room, down the hall to the bathroom.

  I returned to the kitchen, where Blake handed me my forgotten bagel. Shawn and Mom chatted in slow signs. Dad leaned against the counter, arms crossed, closed off from everyone in the room. If I couldn’t get his support on something as simple as this, I had no chance in hell of him supporting my career.

  Jas entered as I took a bite of my bagel, her face free of any makeup, her hair pulled back into a messy bun. She wore jeans and a tee shirt, nothing like the sexy-as-hell vision I had encountered in my bed, yet every bit as enticing. My hands itched to touch her. I would have, if it wasn’t for the present company. Her eyebrows shot up, and she pointed at me with an accusatory finger. I opened my mouth to take another bite, then promptly put the bagel down. Shit. I forgot about the matzo thing. I signed, “Sorry,” as Mom excused herself from Shawn and greeted Jas.

  “I’m so sorry,” Mom signed as she pulled Jas into a hug.

  Over Mom’s shoulder, Jas sent me a glare. “You failed.”

  “It was a mistake.”

  “Later.” She let go of Mom and faced her. “Thank you.”

  Mom asked a few questions about Connie. Jas responded with vague answers, since we knew very little. “What’s her diagnosis?”

  “Broken hip.”

  “What’s the treatment plan?”

  “No clue.” Tension stiffened her shoulders with each answer. Without thinking, I pulled her to me and pressed a kiss to her temple.

  Everyone froze. All eyes were on us, taking in my action and our closeness. Even Blake and Shawn, who knew we were dating, hadn’t seen us together, not like this.

  I backed away. “Bagel?” I asked Jas.

  Pink spotted her cheeks. She nodded, and I went to hand her my mistake bagel, only to have her shake her head and pull out a cinnamon raisin instead.

  Mom waved for attention. “You two . . . boyfriend/girlfriend now?”

  I glanced at Jas. We hadn’t established any labels; there hadn’t been a need. “We’re dating,” I signed.

  Mom studied us both, then a smile crossed her face. “About time.” She faced Dad. “I told you they’d end up together.”

  Jas turned and focused on her bagel. This was all new, and Mom was already acting like us being together was permanent. The wedding-planning wheels in her mind were probably working double time on us. But Jas was used to relationships messing things up. I had to let her know that whatever happened, we’d always be family.

  IT TOOK SOME time, but eventually Mom and Dad left, and Blake and Shawn retreated to Blake’s room. Jas and I remained at the table, sipping our second coffees. “Your dad really didn’t say much.”

  “I suspect this was Mom’s idea.”

  “Definitely. She liked Shawn.”

  I nodded. They’d hit it off, language barrier and all. Of course, Mom’s teaching side meant she could be much more patient with communication than others.

  “I’m sorry about the bagel. With everything going on, I forgot.” I hadn’t finished it—only that one bite escaped me.

  “I only challenged you because it’s hard to eat only that for food. It’s no big deal.” Yet tension lingered. I damn well knew it wasn’t just the matzo, but it all rolled up together.

  “I was enjoying the food.” I had. A little dry, but a nice break from normal.

  “Then you’ve been sneaking food in elsewhere.” A tiny smile crossed her face.

  “You told me no bread. I haven’t been eating bread.”

  She ran a finger across the top of her mug. “Popcorn? I just remembered, you can’t have popcorn either, nothing that expands.”

  I rolled my head back and laughed at the ceiling. I had grabbed a bag of popcorn with lunch the previous day. “How the hell was I supposed to know that?”

  Jas shrugged.

  “How can I make it up to you? Want me to eat it for two weeks?”

  The sad smile played at her lips again. “It’s fine. Forget it.”

  “No. I made a mistake with the bagel. I told you I’d stick to it, and I will.”

  Her sad smile morphed into a real one, and it tugged at my heartstrings. While I had always been there for her, she was too used to her mother letting her down. The challenge might have started because I’d bought the matzo that she hadn’t wanted, but I suspected it meant something more to her now.

  “Don’t be silly.” The smile left, replaced by the lingering unease. Jas rotated her mug, her focus on the liquid inside. She’d been like this ever since Mom brought up our relationship. This wasn’t how I wanted us to be. Ever.

  I tapped the table until she looked up at me. Time to lay out some cards. The more air we cleared, the better off we’d be. Even if the change in our relationship meant there were risks. “How soon after a date can I ask if you want to be my girlfriend?”

  Her lips tipped up, and color bloomed on her cheeks. “I thought we were talking about matzo?”

  “You told me to forget it.” I’d prove myself with actions, not words.

  Her wide eyes held mine captive. “I don’t think there are any rules.”

  “So . . . now?”

  Jas raised her hands and hesitated. “You’ve never done that before.”

  “Established rules?”

  “Asked someone to be your girlfriend.”

  I moved to respond, then froze. I hadn’t; she was right. And yet now, with her, there wasn’t a question in my mind. “I’m asking you.”

  “Don’t change yourself because of me.” She held herself stiff, and I smelled a trap.

  “I’m not.” My jaw tightened. If anything, I finally had a reason not to force myself to be what I wasn’t. “It’s a label. That’s it. The change is already there.”

  “And if the change doesn’t work? That will destroy our friendship.”

  I shook my head. “Nothing will destroy our friendship. I don’t know where this change will go, but you and me, we’re family.”

  “You don’t date family.”

  I stopped myself from signing the obvious answer, that one did date family if they were married. But that was way too soon and scared even me.

  I rested my elbows on the table, tapped my hands together. I glanced at my wris
t as Nikki’s words came into mind. “Yin yang. Nikki’s right: that’s us, always a part of each other. We’ll get it tattooed.” I made the yin-yang sign again and broke it up, half for Jas, half for me, on our wrists.

  “You’re crazy,” Jas signed, but she laughed.

  I leaned forward. “You like it.”

  She pressed her lips together, but that only fueled me. I knew I had her. She always talked about getting a tattoo someday. Why shouldn’t that distant day be now?

  “I’ll contact Pete, find out who he uses.” I pulled out my phone, but Jas banged on the table.

  “You’re serious?”

  “About you? Yes.”

  She held my eyes captive, emotion swirling in hers. “You want me to be your first girlfriend?”

  Since I was twelve. “Yes.”

  A smile crossed her face. I leaned across the table to kiss her, but she stopped me. “You have to keep eating the matzo though.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jasmine

  OF ALL THE things I could do on a day off, I never suspected I’d be at a tattoo parlor. It had always been a desire of mine that I didn’t often talk about—one Dev was well aware of. Something I’d thought I’d be able to afford after getting my bar established. I couldn’t deny the little thrill it created. What better way to commemorate my youth than with something bold and brash? Pete hooked us up with his guy, who turned out to be a woman with availability, and suddenly my one day I’ll do this became today.

  I was getting a tattoo. And after this, I’d be forever marked in a way that connected me to Dev.

  He brushed my hair out of my face. “You sure about this? We can change our minds if you aren’t sure.”

  Nervous? Yes. Wanting to back out? No. “I’m sure.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Of course.” A little too much bravado, but hey, needles weren’t exactly his thing.

  Pete had come along, either for moral support or entertainment. He worked with the artist, Kit, who knew a little ASL. She had a nose piercing, dyed pink hair, and tattoos up and down her arms and peeking out from the V-neck of her shirt. She put down her pencil and held one thumb up. Pete looked at the sheet, nodded, and turned the paper our way.

  I had assumed we’d just do a simple version. But Kit had drawn one with a flowery leaf feel. She let us study it for a minute, then held up a hand. “Or simple.” And flipped the page over to a bold plain version.

  I turned to Dev, a bubble of excitement threatening to break free. I tried to imagine each design on his wrist, but I couldn’t focus. What would it feel like to run my fingers over a marking that matched mine? To have this little physical representation of the connection we’d always had?

  “Which one do you prefer?” Dev asked.

  I held up a finger to Kit and Pete and pulled Dev aside. My hand brushed at his wrist, sending a tingle straight through me. “I have no idea.” I held out my wrist. “Which do you think will look best?”

  His thumb pressed against my overactive pulse point. He stared as if the answer to world hunger resided on my wrist. The pressure of his hand made me tighten my thighs to try to combat the growing need inside me. Even thoughts of needles didn’t help.

  Still holding my wrist, he let his eyes travel up my arm and over my face. The little half smile showed he caught the goose bumps and was damn proud of it. “I’m thinking simple. Your strength and beauty doesn’t need flourish.”

  And now my heart melted along with my core. “Simple it is.”

  He let go of my wrist to tilt up my chin, giving me a quick kiss that nearly set my panties on fire. When we parted, I had to blink the world back into focus. Not Dev; he’d already let Kit know our choice.

  She rubbed her hands together. Through gesturing she inquired which half we each got. When we didn’t have an answer, Pete looked up the symbol. The black side, the yin, represented femininity. And darkness. It fit me.

  And Dev was my light.

  I went first. Kit prepped my wrist and then punctured my skin with ink. It wasn’t comfortable, and pain followed the pricking. But it was about time pain meant something good was being added to my life.

  Pete and Dev kept me entertained. I couldn’t really respond because I signed with my whole body, but I managed a simple word or two in response.

  Kit wiped away ink and blood from my wrist. The blood made sense, but I would never have expected it, for whatever reason. I faced Pete. “You do this often?”

  He grinned and flexed the eagle on his arm. “Worth it. You’ll see.”

  I guess I had no other option.

  When Kit finished, the skin around my tattoo was red and angry, but in the center the yin represented peace. Yes, it would match up with Dev, but it also epitomized what I’d been through and where I was headed.

  For some odd reason, it represented hope.

  With my arm bandaged, I hopped off the table. “Your turn.”

  Dev settled in as I joined Pete. “Think he can handle it?” Pete asked.

  “You ask me that now? I need a partner for my yin yang.”

  He flashed me a million-dollar smile. “I’ll match you.”

  The floor vibrated, and we turned to Dev. “Over my dead body.”

  I smiled, couldn’t help it. There was something about Dev being possessive over me.

  Then Kit began her work, and Dev closed his eyes, tight.

  Pete doubled over in laughter. “He can’t handle it, I love it.”

  Dev flipped Pete off. He must have heard the laughter.

  I was close to laughing myself, as Dev’s free hand tightened into a fist. He definitely wasn’t reveling in the pain like I had. I ran my hand down his free arm and laced my fingers with his. He cracked open an eye, but Kit must have done something, because he snapped it closed again.

  I turned to Pete. “And the award for bravery goes to Jasmine Helmsman, good job.”

  I caught Kit’s eye. “He cry?” I asked, gesturing to Pete.

  She glanced back at him. “Little bit.”

  PETE INSISTED ON taking us to dinner to celebrate. I suspected it was in part a stall tactic to keep us from removing the bandages. Our usual pizza place didn’t leave Dev with many options due to the whole matzo challenge. I contemplated letting him off the hook, but he’d already rejected my attempt to let him free. Beyond that, a part of me reveled in his commitment. He kept it because it was important to me. Dev the friend would have accepted my way out. Dev the boyfriend wasn’t letting go.

  He had to know how much that meant to me.

  He ate his chicken fingers and fries, and I didn’t bring up the fact that chicken fingers were battered in flour. I was also distracted by my bandage and what lay underneath. I may have handled the pain better, but Dev had the waiting game down. I wanted to see what the tattoos looked like in action.

  As soon as we got back to his apartment, I made a beeline for the bathroom, ready to get the bandage off and clean my skin. I stepped into the hall before Dev stopped me. “You have to wait an hour.”

  I checked the time. “Close enough.” The whole situation had me antsy. I rarely did anything like this—spontaneous and for myself. I felt free and alive, and I wanted it to continue.

  “Patience,” Dev signed. “I can keep you busy.” Before his words fully registered, he kissed me, and all my antsy energy found another outlet.

  I put my arms around him, pulling my left wrist back when the bandage pressed against my sore skin. Dev wrapped one arm around my waist and yanked me to him, and I didn’t miss the fact that he’d only used one arm. Yet I didn’t care, not with his lips pressing against mine, not with his tongue teasing me with slow strokes. Not when I was more than ready to take this one step further.

  As if the tattoos weren’t enough.

  We stumbled into his room, and he trapped me against his closed door, his hard body holding me in place, ratcheting up the heat until I melted into him. I w
anted to climb him, meld us together until I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began. The need grew, and I knew I wasn’t stopping until he was inside of me.

  I broke the kiss, head back against the door, struggling to catch my breath. Dev kissed my chin, my neck, his hand traveling up my stomach and wrapping around my breast. His large hand covered me, a possessiveness in his movements and his gaze, each setting me off more than the other. I tightened my grip on his shoulders, otherwise I’d fall to the floor. In all our kissing, we hadn’t made it this far, and I wondered why. Dev touched me through my clothes, and my body lit on fire for him. Every nerve ending woke up and begged for more, more, more.

  More I could take. I released one hand from his neck and trailed down his tight chest, to his hard abs, to the end of his jeans. He stopped kissing me, his hand stilled, as I caressed up and down his hard length. I wanted to feel all of him. In my hand. My mouth. Me. I didn’t think I had ever wanted someone the way I wanted Devon Walker.

  He lifted his head and leveled me with a serious gaze. “You ready?”

  I brushed my fingers up him again. He sucked in a breath. “You are.”

  He pressed our pelvises together, and I forgot to breathe. “You answer my question, or this stops right here.”

  “Yes. I want you, in me.” I signed that last part slow, graphic, torturing him for all my worth.

  “You’ll pay for that.” He spun me away from the door, and the next thing I knew I was flat on my back on the bed, with him on top. If this was paying, then I was all for it.

  His hand snaked up my shirt and pulled down my bra cup. Then we were skin against skin. My breast ached for more. The area between my legs throbbed. I squirmed as he teased, and my body gave itself over to him.

  But I wasn’t a passive player. I tugged at his shirt, then helped him get it off without rubbing his bandage. My eyes traveled down his body, all those hard planes I could now explore. My hand followed my eyes, his skin warm and welcoming to my touch.

  He pulled at my shirt, and we repeated the process around my bandage. Once my shirt was gone, he kissed down my neck, over my collarbone, not stopping until he sucked my cotton-covered nipple into his mouth. My body tightened. And while I had liked his tongue in my mouth, his tongue on me was much better.